his fingers would twine through her hair. She knew the salty taste of his lips. He hadn’t called since last summer, although he’d texted a couple of times and sent her a couple of Facebook messages. But that was the way summer flings went, right? It wasn’t like she was looking for true love.
“Sure,” Gretchen told him.
“Hey, get me a Diet Pepsi, would you?” Trina called as they started off. A smug little smile curled on her lips, and she looked down at the book in her lap.
Jason and Gretchen exchanged a look. That wasn’t exactly the sort of snack they were going for, and Trina probably knew it. Gretchen blushed and looked away.
“Sure, Trina,” Jason said smoothly. “No problem.”
Will checked the time on his cell phone. This was typical Angus. Twenty minutes late, and no call, no text.
Even at the time, Will knew that Angus was only saying that because he was digging on Gretchen. Still, Will had been curious about the show. The way Gretchen described it made it sound really interesting. It was by a bunch of different artists, so it wouldn’t just be the same beach scene over and over. So he’d said, “Okay. Sure, Angus, let’s go.” And now Angus was nowhere to be seen.
Will’s cell phone buzzed.
Will sighed. This was why nice guys always got screwed. He texted back,
The glossy dark wood floorboards creaked beneath his sneakers as he walked in. Large skylights sent light pouring onto the white walls and gray trim. Admission to the gallery was free, but Will shoved a few dollar bills into the waist-high Lucite box near the entrance. The gray-haired volunteer behind the counter nodded at him in approval as he passed into the gallery.
There was one other figure inside. She was in profile, and as the bright skylight illuminated the fair skin and dark hair, for a moment Will mistook her for part of the exhibit. Asia seemed carved of stone.
He hung back a moment, unsure whether to join her. She hadn’t been warm toward him the other day, and she’d bailed when he started asking questions. Part of him wanted to turn and scurry away. But another part of him had clearly already made a decision, because he found himself moving across the squeaking floorboards toward her. He felt like an elephant galloping across a field of tin cans, and was almost surprised when gazelle-like Asia didn’t dart away in surprise. In fact, she didn’t even tear her eyes away from the painting she was studying. Instead, she just waited a moment for Will to settle beside her. “There’s something about this one,” she said at last.
Will took in the image-an old-fashioned painting done in classical style. It was of a bird with a woman’s head. She was diving toward a ship, talons extended, a look of rage twisted across her beautiful features. Her hair was wild, and the men on the deck of the ship cowered in fear before her. Will checked the information plate beside the painting.
Asia cocked her head. “Some say fish, some say birds.”
“Tomato, tomahto,” Will joked.
Asia looked at him, a smile playing at the edges of her lips. Will wasn’t sure if Asia thought his joke was amusing… or if she thought Will was an idiot.
Asia digested this in silence. She continued to study the painting. “I like the darkening sky,” she said at last. “The cliffs.”
Will peered closely at the cliffs in the background. The image of the bird-woman had grabbed his attention so thoroughly that he hadn’t really noticed them. But there were indeed gray-white cliffs in the distance. And, perched atop the cliffs and executed in minute detail, were three more bird-women calmly watching the scene. Beneath their talons were several skulls. One was not quite picked clean.
Will felt his hands go cold.
“Exactly,” Asia said, watching his face.
“Have you seen the rest of the exhibit?” Will asked suddenly. He wanted to get away from that picture.
Asia seemed to understand his feelings. She moved on, taking an unhurried stroll around the gallery. Will feigned interest in a sculpture of a conch shell that was made of a thousand smaller shells, but really he was watching Asia. There was something about that girl he couldn’t figure out. The way she walked-with such confidence, but no arrogance-stood out in this small town. Will remembered the glance she had given him through the rain-spattered windshield. It had held him in place, the way her voice had the other day. It was better to stand back, watch her from a distance. Asia almost seemed like a visitor from another planet. Most of the paintings and sculptures garnered only a quick glance from Asia. One wall-sized photograph of several campy, smiling mermaids in pink wigs actually got a laugh. Finally she joined Will at the sculpture. She studied the smaller shells and the place where they joined together to swirl into one larger shell.
“The interconnection of the many and the one,” Asia said at last.
“Really?” Will cocked his head. “Because this thing just makes me want some fried clams.”
Asia laughed. It was a pretty sound, like silver bells.
“Hey, listen-do you-do you want to go get something to eat?” Will asked. “Like, some fried clams?”
Asia looked surprised, as if that was the last thing she had expected him to ask. Her voice was slow, like dragging feet, but she said, “All right. Yes.”
They stepped out into the bright sunshine, and Will pointed to the left. “There’s a really good place down near the water.”
“Dave’s?” Asia asked.
Will was surprised. Somehow he hadn’t expected Asia to know about the divey little clam shack haunted by locals. “Yeah.”
They fell into step in silence as they moved up the street. After two blocks, the rich, heady scent of fried food wafted over them. They ordered at the counter, then took their food to a picnic table on an open porch. The waves crashed on nearby rocks, and a friendly breeze blew as they arranged the red plastic baskets full of fried clams and french fries. Across the table from him, Asia seemed out of place in the mundane scene. For a moment he wondered what he was doing, bringing her here. But Asia smiled as she looked out at the sea. She didn’t seem uncomfortable at all.
Will dipped a fry into a small plastic tub of creamy tartar sauce. “So-how’d you end up working at Bella’s?”
Asia took a moment before answering, as if she was considering her words. “I wanted a job where I could get to know people,” she said finally.
“There are a lot of shops where you could have done that,” Will pointed out. “Or you could have been a camp counselor.”
“I wasn’t interested in those people,” Asia said.
“You were interested in the people at Bella’s?”
Asia smiled. “You’re very inquisitive.”
“Not usually,” Will admitted. He fought the urge to ask her about walking into the sea. It wasn’t the moment- not yet.
“I enjoy talking to people,” Asia said. “Is that so strange?”
He wanted to tell her that she didn’t act like someone who enjoyed talking to people. She wasn’t really acting
